


Threads of Quintessence

by TheWintersEnd



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Altean Shiro (Voltron), Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Lance is a Lunar Prince, M/M, Shiro is his knight, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, ish, shance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 12:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWintersEnd/pseuds/TheWintersEnd
Summary: Lance is the Lunar Prince of Altea. Sewing stars into the sky has been his life ever since being crowned.Though he enjoys it, sometimes doubts can get the best of you.That's where Shiro comes in, Lance's wonderful husband.





	Threads of Quintessence

Lance wove threads of quintessence with dexterous fingers, his concentration solely on the ebony shawl spread across his lap. Being the prince had it perks, but sewing? Calling yourself the _Tailor_ whilst flirting can only get you so far after the first ten or so times.

Sighing, Lance put the sewing needle down, shawl temporarily forgotten he stared outside the archer window to his left. Dusk had set in, the sky tinged in mellow peach and blue, the first star gleaming on the horizon. He’d have to hurry if he wanted this piece to be up before all the stars took their places among the night sky.

Focused, he picked up the needle, thin threads of gleaming quintessence unwinding from its spool. With finesse Lance continued the constellation sprawled across the shawl. He often wove old Altean folklore into the cloth, they allowed for beautiful and intricate designs.

\--- 

“You’ve been at that for a while.” Spoke a familiar voice.

Looking up in surprise Lance sees Shiro leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed and eyes filled with mirth.

“I didn’t hear you enter, how long have you been there?” Lance eyes Shiro with suspicion.

“Long enough to know that _you_ need a break” the general says as he walks slowly into the room, the timber door closing behind him with a soft ‘ _click_ ’. His eyes lingered on the silk draped across his lover’s lap. Lance was incredibly skilled when it came to making stars, his ability in weaving folklore onto material a skill only gained by those whose magic flowed abundantly.

Shiro always loved to gaze up at the night sky, to see his husbands work shine alongside Altea’s two orbiting celestials. It was an honour really, to even be associated with someone as amazing as Lance, he adored the prince dearly.

“I’ve gotta finish this.” Lance says sullenly as he looks at the shawl he held. “Father has asked me to finish it before this coming Juniberry festival but I’m doubting I’ll be able to get it done in time.” Lance tears his gaze away from the silk opposite Shiro, his eyes frustrated.

Shiro takes a seat next to Lance on the cushioned settee, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Putting his flesh hand around Lances waist he pulls him into his side, his prosthetic coming around to hug Lance to his chest. Lance is silent but willingly climbs onto Shiro’s lap, he doesn’t face him though. The cloth slips from Lances lap, sewing needle carefully placed in the folds of the linen.

“C’mon, look at me Love.” Shiro says in the softest voice he can muster but to no avail Lance continues to look down, lips turned down into an adorable pout.

“Show me those beautiful blues.” Bringing his hands up to cup the Princes face he begins to pepper kisses all over. A kiss on his cheek, his forehead, his nose, a kiss for each star that Lance has ever dedicated to him ( _that would be a lot_ ).

“ _Shiro_ , s-stop.” Comes the stuttered reply as Lance desperately tries to hold in his giggles. He can’t give in, he _won’t_ give in. He’s given in. Laughter bubbles out of Lance, his Altean markings glow brightly, face flushed. His smile is wide and happy, eyes crinkling at the corners.  The onslaught of kisses doesn’t stop, they near the edge of his grin. Only then does Lance finally look at Shiro, noses nudging, lips barely touching. Bright blues stare into starlit silver, both sharing a mutual love.

“You’ll do absolutely fine Lance, I have no doubts.”

“But you have to say that sort’f stuff, you’re my husband.” Lance’s voice raises in pitch, ending in a whine.

“I don’t have to be your husband to know that what you do is, _literally,_ out of this world. You sew stars for Christ’s sakes! You’re amazing Lance, I’ll tell you so every quintent, varga, dobash, and even every tick.” Face ablaze, Lance tucks his face into the wedge of Shiro’s neck, even his ears were tipped with a flushed pink.

“I love you” Lance whispers, barely heard through the fabric of Shiro’s tunic.

“I love you Starlight, forever and always."

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first ever fic. It's not the most impressive thing but I do hope you enjoyed it :)  
> To clear up any confusion about what Lance does exactly -  
> He sews stars with threads of quintessence (Quintessence that has been spun into tiny threads) and basically puts the stars in the night sky.  
> Feel free to give constructive criticism (It'd be appreciated).  
> Kudos and Comments are always welcome :D  
> You can talk to me on Tumbler at singulari-tea


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